something beautiful

I just woke up.  It is 11 am on a beautiful May morning.  I just brewed some coffee, am eating red grapes, and just opened the back patio door.  Ben Rector Pandora is playing, but besides the music, everything is quiet.


Now what?


I've been building up to this very week for quite some time now.  But now we're here.  The second week of May.  It is Monday morning and I'm sitting in my kitchen and I don't have a clue what to do with myself.


A few things I know:


God has called me to rest.


And God is faithful.


God has called me to study His word.  Specifically Ruth.


God is moving.


He's proving both of these things repeatedly.  Through provision and deep spirit feelings.  Through shut doors and even through frustrations.  I've heard Him right this time.  Although I have no idea what's coming next, I cannot shake the feeling something beautiful is about to happen.


God just smiled a little.  Shaking His head, He just corrected my verb tense.  "Something beautiful is happening, Anna."


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Friday night was my last Kid's Club.  What a beautiful thing I got to be a part of for a whole year.  They sang me happy birthday.  I turned a few shades of red.  I could not even wrap my mind around what I was seeing.  


One year before, we started with twelve little girls.


Friday night we about forty children.  Boys and girls.  Ranging from eighteen months to seventeen years old.  We had an incredible army of volunteers -- including strong, male leadership, which was absent for so long.


I could walk away.  Knowing my children would be taken care of -- that what had been started would be continued.  They didn't need me.  I smile ruefully, wondering if they ever really did.


Before the night was over one of the new little girls fell and scraped her knees.  I don't even know this little girl's name.  But I went and picked her up as tears started to stream down her face.  She tucked her head tight against my shoulder and wrapped her little arms around my neck.  And we just stood there.  


My heart knew, then, it was not the children God is calling me away from.  


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It was Thursday, I think, when I walked out of my house feeling pretty for the first time in months.  The feeling of your heart swelling in your chest a little bit... whether it's because you are wearing good-smelling perfume or your hair fell just right.  I've had a few more moments since then.  Every time I'm taken slightly off guard by them.  But here's the truth: we've been working on my insides for so long.  Maybe it's time for the outside to match.


Saturday was my 23rd birthday.  23.  The year I've always thought would change everything.  Think: Hollywood transformation scene.  (Pretty Woman, Princess Diaries, Sabrina).  I always assumed that would happen this year for me.  (I'm laughing as I type this.)  


But there is no Richard Gere or princess tiara or Harrison Ford waiting for me on the other side of this particular birthday.  I'm just 23.  I've diligently spent the last four years of my life letting Christ transform my heart and soul and spirit and mind.  Then screwing up.  And starting over.


The product of such hard labor... is a good life.  Which I have.


I am 23.


Not until I typed that very sentence, did it feel weird at all.   


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I spent the day in Nashville with some sweet girl friends.  Watching sweaty boys play their guitars, pianos, and drums; singing about the girls they loved, the girls who had hurt them, and the girls they wanted to meet.  Then listened to Matt Wertz talk about Africa.


I pray there is never a day when someone utters the word Ethiopia when I do not pause.  Recollect my breath.  And smile just a little bit.


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Yesterday I found myself in traffic behind someone with a license plate that said: HOPE.


What a word.  I find myself grasping, trying to hold on to the last bit of it I have left.  Knowing I just cannot see what's in store.  Knowing the Lord our God writes better stories than I do.  Knowing that I've been asking for some things for a long, long time.  And I haven't had anywhere to put anything new.  My hands have been too full.  My heart too exhausted.  My mind too busy.  This is what I get for asking.


"Ask and you will receive.  Seek and you will find.  Knock and the door will be opened for you..." (Matthew 7:7)


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This week, tutoring will end.


And there will be an all-worship service at church.


I will go to a new Bible study... where we are studying the book of Ruth.


I will have a few days off, which I spend reading and exercising and maybe even sleeping.


Soon... very soon... the words, which come out of me, will not be about resting.  


Maybe I will have a love story to tell you.


Or pictures to show you.


Maybe I will get dirt under my fingernails.  Maybe I will run a race.  Maybe I will simply share a recipe with you.


Who knows.


Thank you for being patient with me.